


A Crimson Bloom Like His Eyes

by Nillas NSFW Corner (Agraulis_vanillae)



Series: The Crimson Saga [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Temple, Based on a Dream, Breeding, Chases, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Fell as a God, Forced Pregnancy, M/M, Other, Papyrus-centric, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Primal/Prey, Rape, Ritual Sex, Sacrifice, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Stalking, Suspense, Underfell Papyrus, Underswap Papyrus, Virgin Sacrifice, Virgin Swap, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agraulis_vanillae/pseuds/Nillas%20NSFW%20Corner
Summary: Swap sets foot into the temple, trapped with poppies and an old crumbling statue. He knows what he's here for, but can he evade his fate?





	A Crimson Bloom Like His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Heya Readers! Halt, and read the tags! I know I normally write fluff and very tame things, but this is not those things. So please, take care of yourselves!

The door closed behind him as Swap felt the swirling black granules peppered through white marble tile in the wall of the temple. The edges of the stone were rough and cold. He glanced behind him nervously, then a odd sound caused him to look forward quickly down the path.

 

However, the temple exuded pure silence other than the echo of his escape route closing off.

 

The very scrape of his worn sneakers seemed to swell in the still air and broadcast his presence like he’d shouted into a megaphone. The walls were worn and covered in climbing ivy as well as honeysuckle- plants that he only recognized because of a friend who lived beyond a similarly sealed door. The thought emboldened him, and he shuffled forward into the ruins. The grass was plush and tall, having long conquered the carefully planned floor tile which was scattered in fragmented pieces, only to be grown over in forgotten clumps. The hallway guided him further in one twist and turn at a time into a clearing in the temple. There, bright red poppies grew in delicate cups throughout the cracks of the marble stone that was laid out in the center. A headless statue stood with a commanding air, a dried red substance that had once run down the chest now coming off in flakes to reveal the smooth white marble once more.

 

Swap stepped around the poppies delicately, trying not to crush them as he examined the statue up close. It appeared to have a deep red stone peppered with black and white silica granules throughout the armor that adorned the figure, the pose haughtily triumphant for someone lacking their head. The clearing itself split into three paths, with a single room connected. He peered into the room that was framed by ivy, and broke the cobweb absentmindedly, but it was dark there. Even the trail of poppies that peppered the place with determination ceased their invasion once confronted with the darkness of the interior and Swap determined that the place had not seen light in a very long time. 

 

Other than that, these ruins seemed quite ordinary, and Swap wondered if he was more at risk of dying from boredom or from starvation first. It was time to confront the three paths- he could almost hear his brother scolding him for being too lazy to save himself from his fate.

 

Hopefully, he would see him again.

 

The left path first, it was closest to Swap and there was no need to complicate things further by using logic that might lead him into a loop while wondering which path he took to begin with. The left path was shadowed, but light filtered in the hall through crumbled gaps in the structure to allow him to examine the pictures carved there. The art was simple, yet well-defined figures that were entwined. They made him feel…

 

...uncomfortable.

 

The figures there were clearly engaged in sexual behavior, some of these behaviors he’d never imagined before. The most shocking to him was that one figure appeared to be pissing on another in one depiction, but they were all explicit to some degree. Another figure appeared to be sitting on someone’s face. Some figures were bound. Others were on their knees. There didn’t seem to be an end to it. He squirmed and averted his eyes quickly before catching himself and boldly bringing his gaze back up. One picture with a couple entwined together on top of an altar had a hole in it, and he looked a little more closely. There was no light coming through it, and as he was examining it, he realized it was through the wall the pathway shared with the middle passage. This meant he had a very limited look here and there at what the middle path was like, though the light was much weaker. He looked ahead but just as he did, a flash in his peripheral attracted his gaze again and he was staring hard into the hole again.

 

He heard nothing, nor did the flash return. Swap was forced to assume that it was nothing without an additional sign to illuminate what he thought he might’ve seen. This time as he progressed onward, there was nothing more. Soon enough he found out that the left path produced a dead end. As much as he didn’t like it, he was forced to turn back and retrace his steps.

 

This time, he refused to look up at the lewd engravings, though less in fear of them as much as he was afraid that next time he looked up that he would meet someone’s eyes. He preferred the idea that he was the only living thing in the ruins compared to the sudden startling image of a crimson gaze that appeared in his mind’s eye. The wind whispered and crept behind him as he passed by the gaps in the wall. As soon as he approached the clearing once more, the sound of displaced gravel scuttled behind him and Swap whirled around, fully convinced that there had to be something stalking behind him.

 

Nothing.

 

The ruins might be a little spookier than he’d originally anticipated, he grudgingly admitted to himself. Upon accepting that fact, the odd noises seemed to compound in intensity, cluttering his senses from different directions. A hollow whistling picked up, twisting through the walls.

 

He fled to the clearing to escape the feeling of being watched, but stray movement drew his eyelights up to a piece of marble breaking off the statue and rolling in stuttering intervals to rest at his feet.

 

“...someone… there?” Swap called, trying to project a sense of calm that he was very much not feeling at this moment. 

 

But no one came.

 

He wished that the lack of response would be enough to reassure himself that he was alone, but instead he was overcome with a single-minded dread.

 

Did he give his position away to the thing that was stalking him?

 

Paranoia and rising panic had his breath coming out in huffs, the stale air only minimally refreshed by the flora. Otherwise, the stillness of the atmosphere coupled with dust that he accidentally kicked up made the air feel solid and difficult to gulp in. Instead of falling into the spiraling panic, Swap took a deep breath and forced his state of mind into composure once more.

 

“heh. If you wanted my digits, you should’ve just said so and how many up your ass.”

 

His words magnified churlishly through the air, and he suddenly felt childish for it, but he couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that followed. Instead of focusing on how he baited the nothingness, he turned to the middle passageway to continue exploration. 

 

He was hardly shocked when the path turned out to be even darker yet live with odd sounds that amplified through the walls and hollow hall. His sneakers slipped and caught on the edges of worn marble tile as the number of holes allowing light in dwindled until he came across a fork in the path that he could hardly see. Deciding that consistency would be best, he turned to the left, only for the path to force him leftward again, and then the tiles  _ sloped _ .

 

He could hardly tell where he was going, except where he maintained a steady grip on the wall until the surface fell away into space. Confused, he lunged to the side as he felt for the wall and was reassured to have his shoulder bump into it once more. It seemed like this was another clearing, one that led underground, under the main floor of the ruins. After some indecision, he decided that he needed a light source before venturing further. He turned back to where the darkness seemed more grey than black, the dimensions of the hall becoming outlined once more.

 

Eventually his vision had picked up on enough light that he could see the fork in the path once more, and followed the right side into a winding extended hallway. The light didn’t fade, but it hardly got brighter until he was picking up on a glimmering pinprick dancing in the distance. The air stilled and became colder as he followed that pinprick, passing long ropey cobwebs gathered in powered tassels in the corners. Just as Swap began to feel truly exhausted, the pinprick finally developed into a steady flickering flame where the marble tiles broke to earth, and was aided by luminescent blue blossoms that grew in the clearing. The light threw the pictures on the wall in sharp relief, regularly spaced and seeming to adopt a steady galloping rhythm floating above the tall flowers.

 

Children. They danced across the wall in acts of innocent play, with only a single obvious adult figure with a swollen abdomen watching. They appeared to be a maternal figure, a hand supporting their stomach with their other hand extended to a child that appeared to be crying. In stark contrast to the drawings in the adjacent hallway, these drawings suggested a different role to the temple. It was the prosperity his home desired.

 

The main source of light was a single torch lit in the middle of the room, the atmosphere it produced making Swap feel as if he was finally swallowed up by this place, a tiny spark of life in a sprawling maze. If there was anyone else, they’d have to be looking for him for a long time. It was enough for him to settle down in the corner surrounded by the glowing flowers, and nod off into a fitful sleep.

 

~

 

He woke up in a sudden jolt of cold sweat and his pulse pounding, convinced that there was eyes on him. The torch light danced as it always had, though there was something echoing.

 

The flowers.

 

Something had set them off, singing softly in the secluded space,

 

_ Tick. _

_ Tick. _

_ Tick. _

 

Slowly and silently, Swap moved upright to travel along the walls to the exit. The pictures seemed to dance and writhe under the light, unaffected by his departure as he left the comfort of the torchlight to out in the night of the hallway. Soon, he was losing the echoed sound by the flowers, and tracking the real source of the sound in the hallway up until he started losing it. He paused, stepping back once, twice, thrice.

 

There.

  
That was where the sound seemed to warp, twisting and registering somewhere off to his left. He approached where he knew the wall ought to be, and though he was expecting a gap, his shoulder hit the edge of the wall harder than anticipated. He twisted mid-stride and landed hard on his hip. The sound intensified and evolved.

 

_ Trick. _

_ Trick. _

_ Trick. _

 

There was another fork in the path, one he must’ve missed somewhere along the way. The realization of how truly labyrinthian these ruins in sunk in, and his palms gritted against cold damp title as he flipped onto his heels to scooch back until his back hit the wall safely again. The break in the wall was a standing triangle of black in the intense grey of the vague darkness that his vision was only able to make some sense out of. Fearful of getting lost, Swap doubled back to the clearing outside the maze.

 

There, the statue had diminished in both size and stability under a unsteady sprinkle of rain from the clouds that passed overhead. The shoulders had melted away completely into dust and marble fragments, leaving the torso crumbling below. Moonlight offered guidance from above when it wasn’t obscured by rain clouds to give the poppies a violet-crimson tint, and Swap understood that he must’ve been inside the temple ruins for hours, sleeping away the daylight that he could explore by. 

 

His stomach ached, but he hadn’t seen anything to eat other than wildflowers here. Now was not the time to go exploring new territory, as he’d likely get himself irrevocably lost. Undecided, he considered checking the left path again where it’d gotten dark but otherwise had light when-

 

_ Crrk _ .

 

The dust swept low from the statue, followed by stone that came tumbling down past the waist. Startled, Swap stumbled back into the middle path again and watched the statue’s decaying progress warily from the shadows. Filled with unease, he backed up into the middle path again to visit the warmth and safety of the torchlight.

 

Additionally, the presence of the torchlight had given him an idea. Following the path, the progress seeming to come much more quickly, he’d found the torch, and examined the stand. Ah, there! The architecture of the stand was such that if he grasped the edges of the bowl the flame flickered in and twisted, he could unseat the bowl and carry the warmth though the heat intensified to unbearable levels in a minute. It was something though, and that could help him investigate the other paths once it wasn’t raining. The question of how long the torch had been burning and who had lit it still nagged his mind, but there was no easy way to obtain answers other than to keep going.

 

He carried the torch onwards out to the split in the path, and followed the odd sound. It evolved once more before he discovered the source, though by then he’d already guessed at what it could be.

 

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

 

The path lead into a deep pool, still but for the ripples that radiated from the leak in the ceiling. It wasn’t safe for his only source of light to continue on with him, and Swap gingerly set the torch down far away from the damp space, able to balance it on a half crumbled pillar before approaching the pool. It was dark, but after holding fire so close, the cool water was comforting to his touch. He wanted to wash away the sweat and dirt after sleeping in the flowerbeds but...

 

Could there be something inside the pool?

 

He shed his clothes, keeping them close by where he would be able to dive for them at the slightest sign of trouble, and stepped into the pool. There were no steps, just a seeping cool that plunged all the way up his ribcage and sending a shiver up his spine. He rubbed his forearms,and waded further in. The tile under the water was smooth and gave no sign of anything being inside the pool, though he waded a few laps around just to be certain, striding in tight circles. By then, the water had grown warm, and the atmosphere of the room felt cold. He remained in the water, rubbing his sternum and feeling grit melt away. 

 

… There was that feeling again, crawling down his bones.

 

He looked around him as he attempted to brush the feeling off with stray droplets of water, but no matter where he looked, the torchlight didn’t reveal where the sensation of crimson eyes was coming from. He simply had to endure it. 

 

He felt a stab of annoyance, quickly followed by defiance and clenching his hands before relaxing them. If he had to endure the feeling of being watched, he might as well turn it into a show if for no other reason than to claim some indifference to these games that were being played with him.

 

Keeping his expression carefully neutral he allowed his fingers to travel along his ribs, from the water that clung to his sternum to his floating ribs which were submerged into water. Reaching to caress his own spine, he allowed himself to boldly rest his hands over the crests of pelvis, and stopped. He was already psyching himself up, not used to going this far when playing with himself. After all, it was his virginity that allowed him to take his brother’s place when a sacrifice was needed. 

 

The thought made his actions falter, and then he gripped his pelvic arch aggressively. He had only barely began focusing his magic into something he could use when a rustling sound carried throughout the room. Alert, Swap lurched to where he set his clothes only for something to wrap around his waist and cling.

 

“ah!” He gasped and lurched back in alarm, causing the water to splash around him in perturbed waves but the thing traveled with him. By now, he’d recognized the sensation of wet cloth and sighed. Somehow, his clothes had been pulled into the pool, leaving them unwearable if he wanted to avoid catching cold. Carefully, he gathered the heavy material and pulled it out, setting it near the torch and sitting naked, frustrated, and dripping water on the tile. 

 

Along with the magic that was still coalescing across his bones.

 

He leaned back, and ran a finger past the slightly puffy entrance. There was nothing to do anyways, not until his clothes dried. There was too much friction, but he moved in slow languid strokes around his mound until there wasn’t any friction at all. He was starting to relax into it, feeling the droplets on his bone slowly evaporating in proximity to the torchlight. The eyes burned his mind’s eye again, but if he was going to be watched then so be it.

 

He slipped in-between swelling lips to realize that he was wet here, nerves sparking with a unfamiliar intensity where he trailed moisture from his entrance to his clit. However, as the red hot feeling mounted so did the sensation of the eyes on him until he felt like they were over him, pressing him down against that tile and overwhelming him. It no longer felt like just a game, provoking a reaction from an unseen entity. His fingertips dug into his ecto-flesh, pulling his folds open and bearing him to the presence with the arch of his spine unseating him from the tile. He was trembling as he’d positioned his fingers to his entrance, the foreign sensation of stretching registering to his senses.

 

He stopped.

 

He panted quietly, raising his musky smelling hand to his mouth until it passed, and found himself without the energy to move. Before he knew it, he was beginning to fall asleep once more to the dripping of water into the pool and half-believing that it was dripping from between his legs.

 

~

 

This time as he woke up, he wasn’t particularly terrified, just sore from napping on the cold tile floor. He thought his clothes might’ve been dry, but as it turns out that was only half right. His shirt managed to remain only a little damp, but his shorts and hoodie were still heavy with absorbed moisture.. 

 

He just pulled the shirt back on, feeling groggy. With any luck, he’d have slept through the night so that daylight would return once more. He draped his dripping clothes over one arm, and grabbed the torch to return it to the stand, feeling uncomfortably bare. He spread out his clothes near it so to dry out more, noticing that the flowers had absorbed the echoes of his wading through the pool in soft whisper. Walking out of the hall, he could see that it was still dark, but it wasn’t until he was at the entrance that he was aware that anything was amiss.

 

The statue had completely fallen away. Dust washed in the light drizzle and merged into the cracks of the marble and the soil around the center. In its place, a wide winged rune remained with a clear red filling the outline. A chill independent of the night air trembled through him, and he turned to return to the torchlight right away. 

 

His shirt pulled away, climbing up his ribs as if of its own volition, before intrusive phalanges traced lightly across his sternum and a hand rested inside his hip as someone pressed against him. He shuddered as hot breath warmed his neck, hoarse and damp, and the hand gripped the inside of his hip wantingly. “ _ I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU. _ ” 

 

He knew without looking behind him, that the presence had crimson eyes. 

 

Magic flew to his aid without a second’s hesitation, and without thinking he tore out of the foreign embrace into his shortcut. The second his sneakers hit the ground further into the tunnel, he was sprinting with abandon, the sense that the crimson eyes were on him now stronger than ever and his pursuer close behind. There was no time for the torch, it led to a dead end and would give away his position. He listened to the echoes of his footsteps ringing through the hall-

 

There! The sound changed!

 

He veered off into the passageway that he could sense coming up in the near-dark, the one that forced him to turn twice. He nearly slammed into the wall, but checked his speed last second and diverted his path down, into the underground that he avoided. He skidded on his heels, the wall of darkness forcing him to advance with caution until the floor dipped perilously beneath his feet. He lurched too hard, a new wave of panic telling him urgently that he was falling.

 

Then his foot hit the ground. The next step repeated the feeling. He could’ve laughed if he wasn’t dead certain he was being tracked. Instead, he advanced with a sharp shaky sigh that he muffled beneath trembling phalanges.

 

Maybe it was lighter in this chamber, or maybe his night vision was returning. Either way, he returned to his previous speed with tightly controlled strides. A whistling sound registered abruptly, and he startled into a crouching position as if dodging it. Listening, soul beating harshly, he realized it wasn’t the figure.

 

It was the hall that was whistling, there was an exit somewhere! Still holding himself low, making himself as small as possible, he listened for the whistling. He heard it fade for a moment, and had to backtrack. And then he passed it again. The sound changed in tone, but he couldn’t determine where as he was forced to step back once more. It felt like his soul had risen up into his skull with each intensifying beat, sweat beading down his forehead from exertion. Then a slight breeze passed his face. He felt the wall where it had came from, and the surface seemed to melt to his touch, dust conforming to his shaky hands and clinging in a soft fine powder. The wall was chalky, completely unlike the consistency of the marble fortress above. 

 

“ _ I’VE WAITED A LONG TIME FOR THIS _ .” The voice rang from afar, causing Swap to jump and grip the hole in the wall reflexively. More dust, more chalky dirt melting into his palms. He began digging, praying to the stars that the sounds wouldn’t transmit through the air. 

 

The whistling fell through to a low hollowing roar before falling silent. He could feel the hole widening, but then the whistling returned. It started out high and clear, and then dipped melodically low, picking up again and swooping into an established rhythm.

 

That was not the wall.

 

He was getting closer, and Swap dug harder. Entire clots came out of the wall, crumbling past his hands and pounding the ground in dull thunks. His head was pounding too, he was hyperventilating with an elevated awareness of the crimson eyes drawing near. The wall fell in suddenly.

 

Swap threw himself into the created tunnel with wild abandon. The dimensions of this new tunnel, darker, even darker than before, pressed against his back and skull oppressively.

 

And then he was out of the tunnel abruptly, falling forward and flipping onto his sacrum with his elbows scraping down the other side of the wall. He had no idea where he was, but he could only barely hear the other now. The darkness pressed against him and he stumbled to his feet and lurched almost drunkenly over a pot.

 

Crack!

 

His hip hit the marble tile first, forcing him to curl from the sharp tendrils of pain that wrapped around his femur and raced through his spine. The large pot broke into two and rolled gently against him. Petrified with fear, he remained in place. If he’d been in his right mind, he would’ve realized that he’d seen rabbits achieve this same paralysis, trembling with wide glassy eyes and their bodies rigid with the fervor of terror.

 

He was not in his right mind. It was only a matter of time until he was caught, so why fight it and die in the struggle-?!!

 

**_Ba-dum~ba-dum~ba-dum~ba-dum~ba-dum~_ **

 

If he just stayed still for it then-

 

**Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum..!**

 

He’d see his brother again...

 

Ba...dum…

 

His soul slowed it’s beat. His senses sharpened once more. Like a dream, everything seemed to slow down as the crimson eyes in his mind passed by the hole in the wall.

 

And didn’t pass again.

 

Solid underneath his unsteady hands and even less steady swell of hope, Swap leaned against the marble floor and crawled. Too difficult, too noisy. He flattened, and then dug into the floor with his elbows. The floor sloped gently higher, and soon he could see where it got lighter in the hall.

 

The walls had holes here. Pictures. He knew where this was.

 

The middle path hooked sharply back into the left path, leading straight to the darkest part that he hadn’t explored previously. He climbed to his feet, and sprinted forward. All the holes in the wall seemed to flash red as he passed them, the air passing through the hall feeling hot and humid. He could feel fingers travelling down his spine, grasping at his hands. It angered him, this illusion that the being could be right behind him toying with him.

 

He swung around to glare at the empty hall. Urgently, his mind’s vision of the crimson eyes revealed that he was out of the middle hall, swinging to the entrance of the left hall and coming in from behind.

 

Swap’s magic reacted and he tore another shortcut through the hall to fall past the being that had blocked the entrance. Defiantly, he seized the ragged scarf from behind to reveal the marble-white neck, and licked it quickly. Then he shoved him hard, and dashed to the closest hiding place he could find.

 

The dark room.

 

Warmth welcomed him in a stale gust even as he was swallowed by darkness, and he was groping blindly through it. The dimensions of the room gave no sign that there was any exit. Shit. It was as if there was no light at all either. An unseen object smacked squarely into his femurs. He felt it, some kind of table? He navigated around, and then crouched behind it. 

 

He did his best to control his breathing, so that he could listen to the sound floating up. A low chuckling. “ _ NYEH HEH HEH… _ ”

 

The footsteps stopped outside the door. Swap prepared his magic once more to shortcut past and place his last hope on the right hallway. It was the only a place he hadn’t tried yet. 

 

“ _ HOW KIND OF YOU TO SAVE ME THE WALK. _ ” He called, and his steps resumed again. “ _ TRUTH BE TOLD, I WAS ENJOYING THIS GAME OF CHASE. BUT I CAN PLAY HIDE AND SEEK AS WELL... _ ”

 

Swap tensed as fingers tapped the surface of the table he was pressed against, grating slightly as his phalanges slid across the uneven surface. He stopped, standing right next to him and Swap wondered if he could see in this impossible darkness. Then, he felt a light caress across his head.

 

“ _...YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM A GOD, AFTER ALL. _ ” He purred.

 

All at once, Swap used his magic to break through a shortcut and felt it redirect abruptly. The shortcut never materialized, and in his flight he would have been falling straight onto the marble tile were it not for a sudden yank to his arm. He was pulled back in a single snap, pain registering in his arm socket as he flailed into space and was thrown onto the table that he’d been hiding behind.

 

The table began to glow with a winged symbol, red light illuminating the room, and leaking off the surface like liquid. He’d been hiding behind an altar. Cracks shot through the marble tile radially and zigzagged up the walls until the light reached the ceiling. In the light, Swap could see those crimson eyes leering between his legs as the being climbed up on top of him. 

 

“ _ THE FERTILITY ROOM WILL ALLOW ONLY ONE MAGIC TO BE USED. _ ”

 

He didn’t understand until his eyes were following one clawed fingertip to his pelvis, where he’d formed fully swollen folds. His soul had materialized independent of his will, producing an entrance that led deep inside him to form a uterus and ovaries.

 

No, this wasn’t possible-!

 

He backed away from the self proclaimed god, only for both of his legs to be seized. The god pushed them apart, and clicked something across his knees.

 

He couldn’t close his legs now, even if the god wasn’t placing himself directly in between them. The god’s crimson eyes followed his struggles with hungry satisfaction. He reached down to unbuckle his armor, and pulled out a long tapered red cock that visibly twitched in animated obscene arousal. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of it despite himself, and squeezed them shut.  In desperation, he shouted, 

 

“i’m not a virgin!”

 

_ “OF COURSE YOU’RE A VIRGIN. _ ” The god pressed his member against the length of Swap’s cunt and rubbed the head of it against his clit.  _ “ONLY A VIRGIN CAN BE OFFERED IN THIS FERTILITY RITUAL. ONLY A VIRGIN CAN ENTER THIS ROOM. _ ”

 

He loomed over Swap, to lick from his neck all the way to his cheek, his tongue long and sinuous. Swap turned his face away, only for the god to whisper to him, “ _ ONLY A VIRGIN WOULD HESITATE TO PENETRATE THEMSELVES. _ ”

 

He rutted against Swap between his tense shaking thighs. The sensation made him startle and strain against the restraints, anticipating stretching, pain. Instead, the movement remained slow and deliberate, the suspense coiling throughout his body in response so that each stroke against his clit made his legs tremble. Those red eyes seem to narrow with satisfaction.

 

“ _ AND YOU’RE SO RIPE FOR THE TAKING TOO, CAN YOU FEEL IT _ ?” His thighs were slippery, frictionless. Something was building inside him, foreign but overwhelming. He didn’t know what to expect from this, what it was doing to him at all. “ _ YOU’RE SO WET JUST FROM MY DICK. YOU HAVEN’T BEEN PROPERLY FUCKED YET, BUT YOU’RE SO READY FOR IT _ .” 

 

He didn’t respond, letting the way he tensed convey his feelings about the situation.

 

The god was now pressing against his entrance, slowly breaching him and stretching him open with just the head of his cock. His entrance burned in waves, and then with a pop he was penetrated at last. Swap refused to allow the tears forming in his eyes to fall. 

 

And then those eye lulled shut for a moment, crimson disappearing momentarily as he pushed in all the way, and Swap gasped audibly at the pain of being spread, wrapped around another so completely. The god’s tongue flicked back out to catch the drops that formed tracks across his cheekbones, and pulled out until only the head remained.

 

And thrusted back in with real force. All at once, Swap felt the tension across his body snap and his hips snapped back into his captor reflexively as his spine arched and tears fell freely with the long drawn out moan. Release dripped down his pelvis and thighs freely, and the god groaned appreciatively. He traced a bead of cum and brought it to his mouth.

 

“ _ YOU TASTE SO SWEET... _ ” He resumed his thrusts with fervor now, his eyes on Swap’s. Swap felt the force of him inside dragging him to the absolute limits of the restraints clenched around his femurs, grinding against his bones and yet all he could do to alleviate the additional pain was to grip the other skeleton’s back for dear life.

 

The burning between his legs and wetness filled him with fear of being ripped apart, his muscles clenching involuntarily around the intrusion as if he was trying to push him out. Yet, the way his legs were hitched over his hips was driving him further in, and with a harsh growl the thrusts stopped. He could feel pulsing, and then even more fluid dripping down his pelvis.

 

“... please… stop. i think i’m bleeding…” he begged quietly, halfway afraid of what he was going to see next from the god. “you’re killing me.”

 

A smirk graced the curve of his captor’s mouth, and he slid out. Impossibly, his cock shining with orange slick was still hard, leaking red magic from the tip. “ _ I CANNOT UNTIL I’M SATED _ .”

 

He dug inside of Swap and Swap gave a harsh gasp as he tried his best to escape the sharp intrusive digits digging into his tender over-sensitized magic. He pulled out a mix of orange and red fluid, and wiped it across his mouth, and before Swap knew what he was doing he was already over him kissing him as he entered him once more. The taste leaching through his teeth did not taste of the rich iron of marrow, but it wasn’t sweet. It permeated through his mouth with such a musky intensity that he cringed, and laughter reverberated through their joined mouths.

 

“ _ DO YOU REALLY NOT UNDERSTAND THAT YOU’RE ENJOYING YOURSELF? _ ”

 

This was very far from what Swap considered enjoyment, but he had no choice here. 

 

The crimson eyes searched his, and seemed to relax. “ _ THAT WAS AN ORGASM, NOT MORTAL INJURY, YOUNG ONE. YOUR OFFERING WILL PROVIDE ME WITH HEALTHY OFFSPRING. YOU’LL MAKE A WONDERFUL MOTHER _ .”

 

He could feel a errant throb from the god as he said this, and swallowed heavily as he braced himself for the coupling to renew in fervor. Instead, his face was being stroked tenderly with a sex scented hand that had their combined cum drying on it. The substance stuck to his cheekbone.  “ _ YOUR SACRIFICE FOR YOUR BROTHER, INDEED YOUR SACRIFICE FOR MYSELF, IS EXACTLY WHAT OUR CHILD NEEDS TO BECOME STRONG. HE WILL BE GREAT, JUST AS I AM. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? FOR THAT, I THANK YOU. _ ”

 

He kissed him again as he began thrusting to completion once more.

 

And again. 

 

And again.

 

The glowing symbols across the ceiling seemed to swirl and drip around them as he was used, his magic being filled with every shuddering low grunt, the pulsing that pressed against his walls with new urgency before his body accepted more of the god's seed. 

 

His magic swelled before he passed out, his mind no longer filled with the eyes that had followed him since his arrival, but with the picture of the lone mother that was illuminated by torch light whose swollen belly looked much like his own now. 

 

He did not wake as the crimson eyed god took him into his arms and walked down the right path of the temple maze. The path was short, broadening into a open space where the temple’s magic pulled open a heavy ivy burdened marble door. The god placed him carefully into the clearing just outside the temple, delicate poppies maintaining vigil over the unconscious sacrifice as the god of fertility dissipated before dawn’s light. By the time Swap was found, his magic had already formed a belly, his protected soul inside already peppered with a single poppy-red bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself, I probably would neeeever write noncon.
> 
> ...
> 
> I'm a goddamn liar. :P If you enjoy following liars that dream terrible things and then write those dreams, join me on the tumbles! I swear I'm not normally a horrible person.  
> https://agraulisvanillae.tumblr.com/


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